


Swallow Every Blasphemy

by APerfectGrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APerfectGrace/pseuds/APerfectGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never realised how unbelievably HOT it was when Castiel blasphemed during sex. NC-17. NSFW. Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swallow Every Blasphemy

**Author's Note:**

> I have NO idea where this came from. I needed to post this for cathartic reasons. All I know is that this was my first time writing this kinda thing and it both killed me and turned me on. Destiel does that to me.
> 
> My word, there is actually NO plot line to this. Turn away. Don’t read this. Turn back. Read it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own anything to do with Supernatural.

Dean Winchester was a man of simple tastes.

He liked the small things in life that didn’t cost a fortune; the things that would put a smile on his face every time they crossed his mind. There was definitely some truth in that cliché saying about the best things in life being free. Those were his favourite types; the moments that he treasured the most.

Things like cracking open a beer with Sam while sitting on Baby’s hood after a long day.

Or sitting around Bobby’s kitchen table, cleaning weapons until the metal could blind someone with their shine, all the while arguing about whether Creedence Clearwater Revival could top Styx in a musical standoff.

Or eating a proper, home-cooked meal at Ellen’s, a meal that didn’t come out of a microwavable packet, a meal that was fresh and wholesome and that made him slam his fist down on the table in heartfelt appreciation, whilst Sam fervently complimented the combination of flavours and begged for the recipe.

He appreciated the good things in life, nothing out of the ordinary.

However, there were also other tastes that Dean enjoyed, tastes that weren’t meant for public eyes, interests that were more private and less wholesome and in _no way_ family-friendly.  He had tastes for every part of his life, but they were all normal and healthy interests.

So, he was just as shocked as anyone to discover that he had a kink that bordered the unusual.

Nothing weird or gross, but something that was odd enough to garner a raised eyebrow from anyone who happened to find out about it.

And this littlepreference just so _happened_ to involve that spunky little angel with the fairy-tale blue eyes and the deliciously soft sex hair.

The angel who was currently underneath him right now: warm and willing and breathless against him.

It was some time during the evening on Friday night; Sam had politely given them the bunker to themselves and had driven out of state for the weekend to help Garth with a small spook problem. He had gently, yet firmly informed them that they were not needed, that they deserved a break and that they should ‘use the alone time wisely’.

To give them their due, they had protested. For all of five seconds.

Sam was barely turning the corner down the road before Dean felt hot lips on the shell of his ear and insistent hands on the hem of his shirt, sparking a hundred waves of arousal and a thousand ideas.

And now, they were currently in the living room, sprawled across the large couch and devouring each other like it was their last night together.

At first, there had originally been pie and popcorn and the Die Hard movies on a marathon loop (in a half-hearted effort to prove that they could do something other than, well, _each other_ ), but somewhere down the line (roughly between _‘ladies and gentlemen’_ and _‘no, shit, lady, do I sound like I’m ordering a fucking pizza?’),_ the pie had disappeared and the popcorn had cascaded over the sofa onto the floor and the movies had been forgotten and they had ended up horizontal across the sofa cushions and Cas was fisting Dean’s shirt and moaning against his mouth and Dean was panting and practically pitching a marquee in his pants.

Cas may have had little to no experience in the sexual department (well, that wasn’t quite so true anymore, thanks to Dean), but he _definitely_ seemed to be handling it well; his body eagerly responding to Dean’s prompts and touches without a second thought. He moved against him like it was instinct, fitting his hands and lips across the planes of his body like they were made to be there all along, like he was the completing piece to the Winchester’s personal jigsaw.

He was gasping hard against Dean’s mouth, his breath stuttering in hot puffs over his lips in an adorable way that had the Winchester smiling salaciously into their kiss. The seam of Cas’s lips parted at the feel of Dean’s tongue, and he felt a tremble shoot through his spine. The angel’s hips rose from the sofa to softly rub against his own in a gentle, unspoken plea that clearly stated his need to be as close to him as possible. The delicious friction this caused sent spirals of pleasure up Dean’s spine, increasing the growing warmth pooling in the base of his stomach. He responded in kind, stilling the angel’s hips with his hands and grinding harshly against him in juxtaposition, all the while kissing him and stealing his breath away.

Cas let out a rush of air in response, sliding his hands across the dips and curves of Dean’s ribcage that had him softly laughing, making the angel’s heart flutter. “Dean,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I would like it very much if you would take your clothes off now, please.”

Dean chuckled against his soft mouth. Only Cas could ask someone to strip in the most polite way possible and still make it sound like the hottest, dirtiest thing ever. His crotch seemed to agree with him, what with the way his jeans had become so unbelievably tight.

“Patience is a virtue, Cas,” he murmured in a low voice, drawing the angel’s bottom lip into his mouth and suckling on it, wanting to touch as much of him as possible.

A frustrated noise escaped Cas’s throat, and he pulled his hands away from the Winchester’s side to thread them in his hair in an effort to pull him even closer to him, like he needed to absorb every possible part of him that he could.

“I know the virtues, Dean. I created them,” he informed him between chaste kisses, feeling soft hair between his fingers.

“Did you?” He pulled away in surprise, blinking rapidly. Cas’s hands were still buried in his hair, and he felt the tug as he moved away. It sent a tingle all the way down to between his legs, and he focused on the angel and what he said in an effort to clear his drowsing mind.

As the information sank in, he suddenly smirked, his eyes glinting wickedly at Cas, who visibly swallowed at the mischievous expression now etched on the Winchester’s face. He licked his lips, unsatisfied with the fact that they weren’t kissing anymore, but also a little unnerved at the look in Dean’s eye. When he said that, he didn’t realise that Dean was going to become so _interested_ in it, and, in hindsight, he probably should have kept his mouth shut.

“Yes,” he replied slowly, his pitch and tone slowly dimming back down to a normal register now that they had unfortunately ceased all manner of delightful actions that would result in them being entwined together.

Dean raised himself up above him, staring down at him as he supported himself on the arm of the sofa that Cas had his head resting against. He scrutinised him carefully, his eyes roving over the angel’s kiss-swollen lips. He relished the physical effects that he left on him; they were his claims on Cas and he just looked so goddamn _good_ with all the tousled, stressed hair and bruising love bites and shiny beads of sweat and half-lidded eyes and soft, puffed-up lips. Looking at his pliant little angel like that could give a guy a hard-on on his hard-on.

But yeah, the virtues. “All of them?”

“Yes,” Cas answered impatiently, frustrated at the lack of bodily contact he was having to deal with, wondering why Dean even _cared_ when he was supposed to be _naked_ right now and touching him in that way that made his body _sing_.

He thrust upwards to convey his irritation but that damn grin on Dean’s face just increased, both in magnitude and kilowatts. If anything, he held himself still even more than before, sending the angel into a frenzy of desperation. He could feel his body _ache_ for the Winchester’s touch, and he both savoured and detested the sensation.

“ _Dean_ ,” he keened, bunching the fabric of the Winchester’s shirt and tugging at it incessantly, trying to pull him towards him. “Come _on_.”

He didn’t need to repeat himself because within seconds they were chest to chest again. Cas sighed contentedly as Dean crushed his lips against his, languidly licking his mouth, all that wonderful warmth surrounding him again. He abruptly paused, but before the angel could complain again hot, gentle lips wrapped around his earlobe, drawing the soft skin into warm, wet heat. At the same time, Dean began to rock against him, and the warring sensations made his breath hitch in his throat.

“So,” Dean said in a low tone, fingertips dipping underneath the crisp cotton of the angel’s shirt, the rhythm of his hips never faltering, falling in time with the rise and fall of Cas’s moans and puffs of breath. “What virtue did you create first?”

“Wh-What?” It was really difficult to listen to anything but the purr of that damn voice in his ear, the heat searing in his groin and the rough, warm hands skirting the skin of his stomach, making goosebumps rise on his flesh.

“I _said_ …” He had to bite the inside of his cheek when Dean thrust against him in one hard, torturous movement, making his insides jump violently. The Winchester’s lips had moved to behind the shell of his ear, imprinting the bone that originated there. “ _What virtue did you create first?_ ”

“Ch-Chastity,” he ground out, trying to focus on what he was asking of him, but really, when his boyfriend was on top of him, making him squirm in so much pleasure that he could have drowned in it, it was any wonder that he could _breathe_ , let alone answer a question coherently.

“Heh,” Dean smirked, nuzzling his neck, making his vision blur momentarily. “The angel who created the first virtue is breaking it with the first sin ever made. Do you see the irony in that?”

Oh, Cas _definitely_ saw the irony in that. He was also more than conscious of the fact that this knowledge, rather than horrifying him into pulling away from Dean, was actually making him even more aroused. He was so hard that he could probably cut glass with his erection. “I… am well… aware…”

Teeth had joined the lips now, making pleasure spike in his spine, and as Dean sucked on his earlobe, he felt his dick pulse hard in response. He was so _unbelievably_ turned on right now. If the Winchester kept this up he was about fifteen seconds from spilling in his pants.

“Keep going…”

“Dean, is this _really_ necess–” The last word died in his throat as he was interrupted – _rewarded_ – with the sight of Dean leaning back and removing his shirt over his head in one clean, swift motion.

“Oh…” Cas felt his body prickle in excitement at the now extremely large amount of Winchester skin on display, and found his hands tracing the cloth-covered lengths of Dean’s thighs, feeling the muscles jump underneath his fingertips. He had the urge to run his tongue from Dean’s neck all the way down to that glorious trail of hair just above the rim of his jeans.

He always marvelled at him when he was topless; Dean truly was one of God’s best creations. Every arch of muscle, every curve of bone… Cas could stare at him forever.

He didn’t have much time to ogle him though, as the Winchester dipped down and captured his mouth in a chaste, yet licentious kiss that had his head spinning in seconds. He responded more than enthusiastically, deepening the kiss and savouring the sensation of a now shirtless Dean against him. He could feel the warmth of his skin seep through his shirt, sparking the arousal deep in the small of his back and in the jut of his legs. He nearly growled when Dean moved away, but the noise dissipated on his lips and his eyes slid shut as he felt that mouth move to reposition on his jawline, sending jolts of ecstasy zinging straight to his crotch.

“ _Next_ , Castiel.”

He would never admit it, but he _loved_ hearing Dean say his full name. The deep rumble in his voice and the way his teeth formed around the word made shivers run down his spine and his insides stir, like it was _made_ to be said by the Winchester, for his needs alone. There was something about the way that it rolled off his tongue that gave Cas all sorts of pleasurable reactions, most noticeably the one straining against the metal of his zipper right now. He canted his hips upwards but Dean remained stubbornly resolute; his hands were bracing either side of Cas’s head and he was looking at him, waiting for him to comply. He inwardly groaned; he needed _more_.

Maybe if he played along, Dean would take off more clothes.

Cas sighed, submitting to his little game. “Temperance.”

Dean suddenly shifted his weight, his hips sinking lower into the angel’s own. The small movement, coupled with the small _chink_ of metal as their belt buckles met, made his dick throb almost painfully and that puddle of warmth basing in his stomach doubled. He tried to bite down the flow of endorphins clouding his mind, but it was proving an almighty task.

“D… D…”

His voice faltered at the feeling of Dean’s hands as they left the side of his head and instead began to ghost the bones of his hips, gripping him gently, making the heat in Cas’s torso flare instantly. His lips were moving across his jawline, butterflying small pecks of affection against the bone. He was enjoying this _so_ much, the cocky son of a bitch. Judging by the bulge in his jeans, he was getting off on holding out on him. He wanted nothing more than to reach into Dean’s jeans and touch the hard, velvet-like flesh underneath.

“D-Diligence…”

A part of Cas was surprised at just how much Dean managed to affect him. Just the softest wisp of breath on the angel’s skin, or the smallest glimpse of skin, or the tiniest bite of the Winchester’s lips could send his blood bubbling south in _seconds_. He blinked in shock as Dean suddenly gripped his shirt and deftly unbuttoned it in seconds, leaving him open and pliant to his touches. He ran a hand down the line of Cas’s torso, making the angel’s muscles clench and clouding his mind to the task he was supposed to be doing.

“Kind… kind… kind… ness….”

He sounded like a stuck record, making Dean laugh softly against his skin because the way his brain shorted out and his voice stuttered was _seriously_ cute.

He moaned as the Winchester sucked on his pulse, licking and teething him until he’d left a lovely little mark of possession on the junction of the angel’s throat. Just in case anyone didn’t already know that he belonged to Dean in heart, now he had a wonderful little reminder that he belonged to him in body too. He sure had an affinity for leaving marks on things that were his. Suddenly, all thoughts blacked out because Dean’s mouth was moving and was drawing one of Cas’s nipples into his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue and making the angel groan, squirming.

“Huh… Huh…”

“I don’t remember ‘huh’ being a virtue, Cas,” Dean grinned against the skin, his smile growing wider as hands fisted the top of his jeans in a vice-like grip, unintentionally drawing him closer into the body underneath him.

He sneaked a glimpse upwards and chuckled because, if looks could kill, he would be stone cold dead in the ground right now, judging by the glare that the angel was giving him. He cheekily kissed him on the lips in apology, dipping his head down and wrapping his mouth around the erect bud of his nipple once more. Cas hummed blissfully, the spikes of ecstasy lengthening. His trousers were painfully constricting.

“H-H… Humility,” he forced himself to continue, carding fingers through the peaks of Dean’s hair.

He was rewarded with the sudden feeling of fingers against the metal teeth of his zipper, and suddenly the ache in between his legs multiplied to an unbearable level that had his fingers twitching against the Winchester’s scalp. Dean palmed him slowly but surely through the fabric of his clothing, making the angel’s mouth fall open in a rather undignified manner. His hands released the curls of Dean’s hair to tightly grip his shoulders, head falling back against the arm of the sofa and mouth hanging open at the torturously slow rubbing. He could feel the pressure begin to rise.

Cas felt his zipper loosen, and the sound that dropped from his mouth as Dean slid his fingers into the weave of his underwear to firmly grip him was so wonderfully raw and enticing that Dean had to will himself not lose every ounce of control he had in his body, tear off all of the angel’s clothing, flip him over and pound him into the couch just so he could hear that delicious moan over and over again.

“Jesus _Christ_ , D–”

It was barely out of his mouth before Cas realised what he just said and swiftly clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with panic and heart stopping his chest. Dean had frozen against him, and was slowly lifting his head up to look at him with an incredulous look on his face.

“Did… Did you–”

“No,” came the muffled, freaked out reply.

Dean released his grip and scuttled up from his torso to look at the angel, who was staring at him with a wide-eyed expression with his hand still firmly covering his mouth, petrified that something else was going to force itself out of his mouth. The fear bubbling up in Cas’s chest right now was making it hard for him to breathe properly; his heart was hammering against his ribcage and he seemed to be hyperventilating.

“Did you just–”

He shook his head forcefully; if he willed it hard enough, maybe it didn’t happen. If he pretended that he didn’t say it, then he _didn’t_ say it. “No. You didn’t hear anything.”

The smile that began to slowly spread across the Winchester’s face was almost blinding, and Cas knew that he was seriously in for it now.  Son of a _bitch_. “Dude, you _did_.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.”

Dean looked down at him with a gleeful expression. He wasn’t going to let this go, the angel realised with impending dread. “Cas, you just _blasphemed!”_

He groaned, his hands rising to cover his flushing face. “It was an _accident_ , Dean,” he conceded in a voice three octaves higher than normal, trying to calm the roaring in his ears and the crazy thumping of his heart against his ribcage because ohfuckohfuckohfuck he was going to _hell,_ he was totally going to die in an explosion of flames for this one because he was an _angel_ and he wasn’t _supposed_ to blaspheme and he was supposed to lead by example and all angels were connected to God and there was _no way_ that his Father hadn’t heard him. Even _worse,_ He had probably heard him take His name in vain when Dean _had his hand on his_ –

“You just took the Lord’s name in vain! _You!_ A freaking angel of the Lord!” The Winchester, on the other hand, looked like all his birthdays and Christmases had just rolled into one.

“It was an accident, I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out–” Cas blurted out in a panicked rush, unable to comprehend what he had just done.

“Oh man, this is _awesome!_ ” Dean laughed as he straddled the angel’s thighs.

Through his mortification, Cas noticed how the Winchester’s hair stuck up on one side, all thanks to him running his fingers through it while he had kissed him stupid. It was a sexy look on him. His eyes roved down the tautness of his abs, the broadness of his chest… he was getting a little side-tracked from the matter at hand. “It is _not_ awesome! I have committed one of the most heinous sins; I have broken one of the Lord’s Commandments –”

“Do you know how _great_ that is?”

“ _Dean!”_

“No, seriously!” His voice suddenly dropped an octave, and then he was staring at the angel like he was the apple pie and Dean was the fork, and Cas became acutely aware of the erection digging into the side of his hip, which should have angered him but instead sent coils of excitement snaking straight to the pit of his stomach. “Do you know how _hot_ that is?”

Cas stifled a groan as hot, insistent fingers skirted his underwear again, pushing under the fabric and ghosting the length of his dick, tendrils of arousal twisting through the fear and panic and setting a nice hum in his blood. His hips bucked up out of their own accord, wanting to increase the feeling. On one hand, he wanted Dean to stop, but on the other, he didn’t. Moral dilemmas were going to be the death of him one day. Well, not literally, but –

“Dean, _stop_ –”

“You can’t beat yourself up over a slip of the tongue, Cas.”

“But you don’t understand –”

“I do,” he said from somewhere down the angel’s body, and he looked down to find the Winchester settled nicely in between his legs, which threw him because when the bloody hell did he get _there?_ “You blasphemed and you’re pissed at yourself because you’re God’s messenger and you guys are supposed to be all holier than thou. But…” Dean stared up at him with a wicked gleam in his eyes, grinning. It made his hands clench and his chest constrict. “You say it like you’ve never sinned, angel.” Cas barely suppressed a quiver at the way Dean said his classification, loving the way it fell out of his mouth in a half-endearing, half-lustful tone. “In fact…”

He pulled his hand out of Cas’s underwear and gripped either side of his trousers, pulling apart the zipper to its catch and releasing some of the confining pressure that the angel never realised had even returned to his crotch. He was still mortified and upset and angry at himself, but as Dean’s fingertips curled around the elastic of his boxers and deftly pulled them down his thighs, along with his trousers, he was having an extremely difficult time remembering _why_ he was so annoyed at himself. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and fisted the edge of the couch as the cool air hit his now free erection.

“You’re sinning right now.”

“Unnngggghh, Dean…” Cas’s hands tightened around the fabric of the couch as strong fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft and slowly stroked him in smooth, slow, lazy motions that had Cas’s groans intensify in sound and his breathing growing heavy.

“Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour, thou shalt not steal,” Dean murmured, listing all the Commandments that Cas had broken at some point or another as his fingers worked the tense, sensitive flesh in his hands. The angel couldn’t suppress the jolts of pleasure zinging through his body at Dean reciting the Commandments to him. The mixture of virtue and sin all in one nutshell was a very powerful aphrodisiac for him. It conjured images of Dean in a pastor’s uniform while he led him to confession, which had his head searing at the extremely arousing thought. His dick twitched hard at the notion, making the Winchester smile and grip him a little tighter, earning a moan for his troubles. The angel was definitely going to have to get him to dress up for him to satisfy this religious kink that he didn’t even know he had.

“Heh.” Dean licked his lips. “I guess we can add ‘thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain’ to that list too.”

“Dean,” Cas panted, hooking a leg around his shoulder and pulling him closer when he should have been pushing him away. _Curse_ his rebelling body. “I –”

“Do you know how hot it is, having you here on this couch, you with all your celestial heavenly aura crap, sinning down here with me just like all the rest of us?”

It was wrong. It was _so_ wrong. So why the hell was it so arousing?

On a mental level, Cas was severely angry and fearful. He was supposed to be an example to all life on earth; he should follow the Commandments with utter grace and ease, but he’d ended up being unable to control his mouth, and was probably going to be _so_ in for it if the other angels found him and discovered what he had done, on top of all the other sins that he had committed in the last few months.

On the other hand...

Heaven really didn’t like him right now, so _fuck it_ , what was another sin to the list?

Also, he couldn’t seem to help himself around Dean. It was like his body had a mind of its own, always gravitating towards him and yearning for the brush of his lips or the stroke of his fingers or the breathy laugh he did whenever Cas said something he found funny. He found himself aching for the contact between Dean and himself, and there was a darker part of him that got off on the fact that he was breaking all the rules to be with him. It was the same part that would sin for Dean without a second thought, because even though he was fearful of Heaven’s reproach, deep down the rebellion against it was worth it. He would sin for Dean because he _wanted_ to sin for Dean, because truthfully, it made his body burn with arousal. There was something ridiculously hot about it all, and instead of being disgusted by breaking the Commandments, he was actually _turned on_ by it. Huh. His Father would _love_ that.

“I’m so hard right now,” Dean murmured, pushing all Cas’s thoughts of Heaven away and back onto the Winchester. “Hearing you blaspheme… knowing that you couldn’t control yourself because I had my hands all over you… It makes me want to…”

He never finished his sentence, instead choosing to _show_ Cas what he wanted to do to him.

Without allowing the angel time to catch his thoughts, Dean leant down and gave a long, slow lick along the length of his arousal. Cas inhaled sharply at the sensation, his thighs tightening around him. Dean chuckled, his pupils dark as he stared up at him.

“D-Dean,” the angel said in a wrecked voice, his eyes squeezed shut and his hand caressing the side of the Winchester’s face.

“Tell me to stop, Cas,” Dean murmured, his mouth so close to his erection that his warm breath teased all along the sensitive skin, making the angel suck air raggedly through his teeth. “Tell me that you don’t want to sin with me. Tell me that it’s what you really want, and I’ll stop.”

He looked up at him through half-closed eyes, never increasing the distance between him and his angel, but never closing the gap either; he was stationary, driving him absolutely _crazy_ with the small bursts of air on his exposed flesh.

“I… I… don’t want you… to stop…” Cas said thickly, trying to control himself enough to speak. He glanced down at the Winchester through heavy-lidded eyes. “Dean… I _never_ want you to stop.”

It was as if those words had unlocked a magic switch, because Cas _felt_ rather than heard Dean’s heavy growl reverberate across his body, and suddenly desperate lips were against his in a short-lived kiss that had shocks of heat spiking down his spine. Before he could gather his thoughts enough to kiss him back, Dean had shuffled back down his torso and Cas’s mouth dropped open silently as he felt hot, wet heat slowly slide down his shaft. His body convulsed at the feeling of Dean’s mouth enveloping him, his hands flying upwards to grip the Winchester’s hair as his back bowed off the couch at the beautiful sensation.

“ _Shit_ , Dean,” the angel cursed softly, eyes shut tight.

The Winchester closed his eyes at the small outburst – only Cas could have a knack for joining his name with an expletive and make the sound of it rush straight between his legs.

When he had first uttered that little blaspheming phrase, the arousal that netted around the initial shock was so forceful that for one moment Dean thought he was going to come right on the spot. The angel had broken a Commandment right under his nose. Dean had made him break a Commandment. _Dean_ had made him break a Commandment. Dean had made him break a Commandment using only _his hands_. He didn’t realise that that could be such a fucking _turn on_.

And again, as he heard that curse word leave the angel’s lips when he took him in his mouth, the pulsing in between his legs magnified tenfold, and he wanted nothing more than to push his hand into his trousers and jerk himself off there and then.

And now here he was, listening to the soft sounds escaping the angel’s mouth and feeling him move and push and twitch against him, feeling his fingertips gently massage Dean’s scalp while gripping his hair at the same time, sensing him trying hard not to hurt the Winchester but wanting nothing more than to thrust deep into the heat surrounding his arousal.

He could taste Cas. Beads of precome were seeping out of the tip of the angel’s shaft and onto the rough texture of his tongue, and he increased the swipes and slides of the muscle, enjoying the way it stressed Cas’s voice down an octave and increased his sounds of ecstasy.

Unable to stop himself, with his mouth still firmly wrapped around the angel, his hands travelled down to his trousers and swiftly unzipped his jeans, pushing a hand inside and wrapping his hand around his own leaking shaft. The movement made him moan around the angel’s sensitive skin, in turn causing Cas to let out a low groan at the vibrations against his hard flesh.

“D-Dean…”

He couldn’t suppress the heat spiking in between his thighs as he worked his mouth up and down, savouring the way that it made the angel’s voice rise in register, his moans becoming shorter and heavier. He thrust shallowly into his own hand whilst Cas slowly slid in and out of his mouth, matching his rhythm perfectly. He closed his eyes at the feeling of the smooth, velvety skin against his tongue, juxtaposed against the roughness of his own hand brushing back and forth along the length of his shaft. It felt incredible, empowering, and the way it was making those _uh uh uh_ noises rise from Cas’s lips was making his stomach flutter and his dick throb almost painfully in his hand. Cas’s fingers tightened in his hair and when his voice began to rough out Dean knew that the angel was nearing dangerously close to the edge. He was getting pretty worked up himself, the knot in the base of his stomach growing tighter and hotter and yearning for the sweet release that his body desperately needed.

Reluctantly, he let go of himself and gently pulled his mouth off of Cas, who let out something akin to a whine when he felt Dean move off him. As much as the Winchester wanted to carry on, he wasn’t ready for the curtain to come down yet. The show wasn’t even at intermission.

“ _Dean_ –”

“ _Patience_ , Cas.”

Before the angel could reply with a quick-witted comment, Dean hooked a leg under his back and a hand under his arm, curling his fingers over the strong line of Cas’s clavicle. Not allowing the angel any room to process this, he swiftly shifted his weight down into the sofa and executed a rapid spinning manoeuvre that had the two abruptly switching positions. Dean was now underneath a bewildered Cas, who had now found himself on top of Dean, blinking rapidly at the sudden change. Dean became acutely aware of a large restriction from just above his knees all the way down to his ankles, and quickly remembered that his trousers were still halfway down his legs. He was going to have to sort that out.

Finger delving into the bunched fabric, he wrenched the offending clothing down and kicked them off, freeing himself of all constrictions. Cas, witnessing this, eagerly followed suit, practically ripping his clothes off (which was all manner of hot and made the Winchester bite down a moan) and hurling them as far away as he could, sitting back on top of Dean completely naked. _Now_ they were getting somewhere.

The Winchester grinned up at the angel straddling him in a way that was all kinds of sexy, his top teeth biting his bottom lip as he winked at Cas. The angel unexpectedly ground his hips into Dean as he felt strong hands suddenly cup his bare ass and squeeze affectionately. Dean liked the feel of that; he was going to have to make Cas do that again.

“Smooth move, right?” Dean smirked up at him, loving this new change more by the second. “Speaking of smooth…”

Long fingers splayed across the curvature of the angel’s backside, stroking softly. Cas jerked at the change in pressure, not realising that this action would cause his dick to rub against Dean’s own erection, and the connection of their sensitive skin had their heads lolling back and groaning loudly at the movement.

Cas’s body had a mind of its own, and he couldn’t stop his hips from brushing against Dean’s again, desperate to feel him against him once more. The pressure caused him to slump down onto one elbow as he felt the head of the Winchester’s dick bump the sensitive nerve running under the base of his own, causing them both to cry out again.

He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t _will_ himself to stop. He just needed that friction again, and he didn’t even finish that thought before he become aware that he was already thrusting against Dean again, their arousals hot and slippery with sweat and Dean’s saliva. The Winchester’s head was thrown back, a guttural groan escaping his throat and Cas couldn’t stop his breath becoming shallow at the beautiful sight of Dean coming undone underneath him. The angel’s hands were on his chest as he bucked his hips against him, and he could feel the heat spiralling into his core, and that familiar feeling was building up inside him. Just a little more, and he would be pushing himself over the –

“ _Damn it, Cas_. Slow down or you’re going to have me shooting my load already,” Dean mumbled gruffly, clamping down on the angel’s gyrating hips in an effort to cease his tantalising movements.

“Nnnn… don’t want to…” He just couldn’t quit rubbing himself against the Winchester like a bloody pre-teen.

The hands on his hips increased in pressure and gradually stopped him rocking, slowing him down to a stop. He bit his lip at the force behind them; Dean was so sinfully talented with his hands. It made him really aroused to think of all the things he could do to him with them. A shiver travelled down his back at the thought of it.

The Winchester was panting, trying to calm his thumping heartbeat. “ _Fuck_ , Cas.”

“Yes, _please_ ,” the angel responded earnestly, licking his lips and grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. The blood roaring in his ears was distracting and he willed his body to zen down before he came in approximately three seconds. There was being overexcited, and there was being _over_ excited.

Dean drank in the fantastic sight of a closed-eyed, open-mouthed Cas on top of him, hand splayed on his chest as he tried to calm himself down. The hot image was enough to tip him over the edge, pushing thoughts of further foreplay out of his mind and swaying him to move straight onto the main course. His hands journeyed up the backs of the angel’s thighs, making him shiver at the touch. Dean didn’t stop there though; his hands travelled up to the taut muscles of Cas’s backside and squeezed hard, surprising him so much that the angel lost balance and promptly fell forward, catching himself at the last moment and stopping a hair’s breadth away from Dean’s face.

“Hi,” Dean laughed low at the flash of panic on the angel’s face.

“Hello,” Cas replied awkwardly, his eyes wide and arms braced around the Winchester’s head.

Dean preferred this. It gave him easier access. His fingers, having never left the angel’s ass, began to move and knead the firm skin. Cas’s mouth parted ever so slightly, and the Winchester took this opportunity to lift his chin and lick his bottom lip, earning him a soft, euphoric moan. His hands ghosted the skin of the angel’s ass as his lips left the barest of kisses on a mouth that wanted much, much more.

Cas’s head snapped back and his mouth dropped open as he suddenly felt gentle fingers circle his entrance. Dean’s pupils dilated at the sight of the angel’s head lolling back with a look of pure ecstasy on his soft features. His eyes traced the small beads of sweat crowning his hairline, and his tongue darted out subconsciously to lick his lips as he felt Cas push back against his fingers. He gripped his hip to hold him still, but this seemed to irritate the angel, who tried to swat his grip away and canted back, trying to drive his fingers in deeper.

“You know, for someone who created patience, you sure don’t exude any yourself,” he commented lightly, his fingers still moving in feather-light ministrations.

Cas was shaking from exertion on top of him, and the leather of the sofa was practically cracking under his death grip. “There are… situations… that call… for patience, Dean… This is… _not_ one of them,” he ground out, pushing back against the digits and groaning in frustration when the pressure remained too light.

Damn Winchester and his teasing. He hated it. No, he didn’t. He loved it.

“Dean, stop teasing me.”

He smirked up at him and Cas felt his heart stutter. “No.”

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

An experimental thrust downwards did nothing but earn him a sharp slap on the ass. He jerked at the unexpected action, his face glowing. “ _Stop teasing me_.”

“Cas –”

“If you say the word patience to me _one more time_ I will _destroy_ you.”

Dean couldn’t suppress the quiver that the authority in Cas’s voice gave him. He did love when the angel acted like, well… an _angel_.

“You gonna smite me, angel boy?” he mocked him, his fingers momentarily stilling.

Cas’s eyes narrowed, and his eyes darkened with the action. He used Dean’s pause to his advantage, towering over him and staring at him, unrelenting. “I’m an angel, Winchester. I can do much more than just _smite_ you.”

Dean shivered, and his dick jerked in appreciation. Later, Cas was definitely going to have to take control and dominate him and pull out _all_ the stops that came with his hot-as-fuck angel status: the huge feathery wings and the crazy glowy eyes and the deep commanding voice and the ridiculous superhuman strength and _everything_. Cas was definitely going to have to throw him around the room and get him to pray on his knees. God, it got him hot just _thinking_ about it. Not right now, though; that would have to wait for another time. Right now, _he_ was the alpha.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards and the fingers that had ceased movement started up again, slowly pushing through the barrier of skin and entering nail-bitingly slow. Dean watched every second of Cas’s reaction, savouring the way that that previous dominance melted away from his face, only to be replaced by a look of raw pleasure. He catalogued the way the angel’s mouth rounded into a silent ‘oh’ as his hips worked with his fingers, pushing him further into that hot, tight heat. His groin pulsed erratically in response and when he could go in no further, he gave his fingers an experimental wiggle; the motion made Cas shout hoarsely and collapse against his chest, trembling.

“Jesus _Christ!_ ”

He made him say it again. He made him blaspheme _again_.

Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing to ever leave that angel’s damn mouth. In that moment, Dean wanted nothing more than to hear Cas say it again. Cas’s eyes widened when he realised what he’d done once more, but Dean was having none of it – he gave a sharp thrust with his fingers that had the angel’s mind shutting down all coherent thought before he could even start to hyperventilate over his Freudian slip again.

He prepped the angel slowly, all the while reaching up and whispering things that had Cas moaning against the Winchester and clutching him hard, his breathing coming out in heavy pants. Scrambling for his jacket (which was somewhere on the floor, decorated in bits of popcorn), Dean reached inside the pocket that held a small bottle of lube and moved back to the angel, squirting a generous amount into his hand and slicking his fingers, tossing the bottle away.

When his hands were thoroughly coated, he reached behind the angel and began to ring his entrance with slick fingers, making Cas ‘ _huuuuh_ ’ so loud he thought his ears would burst. With the other hand, he reached down between both their bodies and wrapped his hand around his own straining member, biting down at the heat coursing into his groin as he lubed himself up.

“Dean, I don’t want to play anymore,” Cas breathed, supporting himself against his chest and shifting his weight, looking down at him through darkened eyes.

“Me neither,” Dean whispered, ceasing both actions with his hands and gripping the angel’s hips, positioning him above his rigid arousal.

Time seemed to stop as the Winchester slowly pulled him onto his erection, his stomach drawing tight as the angel lowered himself down the length of his dick, soft pants and moans escaping from his mouth in short bursts. Dean’s mind was close to exploding at the feel of that hot, tight heat surrounding him where he needed it most, and the urge to pin Cas down and fuck him into next week was so strong he found himself grinding his teeth at the thought of it.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt the angel eventually bottom out on top of him and let out a weak groan, his vice-like grip on Cas’s hips most likely leaving bruising marks into his soft skin. His breath was coming out in shaky puffs and he allowed himself a moment to gather his mind.

After a minute, he started to move and gave a small, shallow thrust that had Cas gasping against the side of his face. The sparks that erupted from that movement nearly blacked his vision, and this time he rearranged his hands onto the angel’s ass and thrust again, this time a little harder.

Cas was flush against him, and he could feel the soft, tense flesh of the angel’s erection against the flat of his stomach, which had him licking his lips subconsciously. He began to gently rock into the angel, feeling Cas’s legs lock around his thighs to give him more momentum as he pushed back against Dean, intensifying the sensation. Pretty soon, they fell into a rhythm that had them both moaning with each thrust.

The air grew hotter, filled only with groans and pants and broken versions of the other’s name as the rutted hard against one another, losing themselves in the motion as Dean canted up into that wonderful, tight heat and Cas pushed down onto that hard, rigid arousal that had him seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

The angel could feel that sensation from before return, and the build of heat in the base of his stomach was practically burning through his skin. Fuck, he was going to get there faster than he realised. Dean was unrelenting in his rhythm, thrusting him closer and closer to his release –

All of a sudden, he stopped.

Cas’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, looking down to see Dean staring up at him expectantly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his features.

“No.”

Worry fizzled into irritation. “Then why have you stopped?”

Green eyes stared up at him, unblinking. “Because, I want to hear you say it.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Say what?”

A hand left its position on his ass and snaked through dark, sweat-soaked curls, pulling Cas down into a heated, passionate kiss that had his mind shutting down instantly.

Dean nipped at his lower lip, holding him close to his body. “I want to hear you blaspheme, Cas.”

“Dean…”

Cas felt his chest constrict at the memory of what happened earlier and he tried to pull back, but the Winchester was having none of it.

“I want to hear you _sin_ , Cas.”

“Dean –”

The Winchester promptly pushed up hard, and Cas let out a burst of noise and slumped against him, trembling. Dean began to lazily thrust into him, a slow beat that had the angel moaning in milliseconds. Before Cas could lose himself in the rhythm, it ceased again.

He let out a loud, angry noise and glared down at Dean, who just blinked up at him, silent. They stared at each other for a long moment, the tension in the atmosphere palpable.

“You know what I want,” Dean said gruffly. “If you want what you want, you better give me what I want, angel.”

Cas chewed the inside of his lip, not wanting to damn himself any more than he already had but at this point it was like throwing a pebble into an avalanche anyway so _fuck it_ , what did it matter _anyway_ , especially when Dean was hard inside him and he wasn’t _doing anything_ but just fucking _laying there_.

His resolution already set, he sighed as he moved towards the shell of Dean’s ear, silently praying that he wasn’t going to regret this and whispered: “ _Jesus Christ_.”

He heard the rush of air leave the Winchester’s lungs; hands tightened exponentially on his already aching backside and a faint curse left Dean’s mouth wrapped around a truly excited moan. Then, he softly thrust upwards, making the angel’s eyes slide shut as the swelling organ began moving inside him, hitting every goddamn sweet spot that he had.

“Jesus,” he said in a lower tone, more earnestly this time.

Dean moaned again, this time louder. Cas was rewarded with another thrust, and couldn’t stop the groan leave his mouth and ghost the Winchester’s neck.

“ _God_ , Dean.”

“ _Yes,_ Cas.”

This religious kink that Dean had was admittedly an odd one, but right now Cas couldn’t care less as he moaned his blasphemies out into the Winchester’s ear, finding it easier and easier with each passing thrust, earning himself a rocking, building rhythm that had his body heating up everywhere.

Soon, he wasn’t even aware of what he was saying anymore.

Dean, on the other hand, found it like auditory chocolate. Every sinful curse that left the angel’s mouth made goosebumps erupt along his skin and those words, coloured by that deep, celestial voice, made his head sear with deep-knitted arousal. Castiel, _the_ Castiel, one of God’s most revered angels, was wrapped around him, drenched in sweat and moaning the Lord’s name like it was the filthiest word he could imagine. It made Dean’s excitement reach levels he didn’t know he actually had.

Oh yeah _, definitely_ a new kink.

“Fuck… _Dean_ … Dean…  Jesus…  Jesus fucking _Christ_ … Holy shit… _Dean_ …”

The combination of his name and those curse words and his name and the blasphemies and _his name_ had shocks of arousal zipping up and down his back so much if he was standing up he would have collapsed right now. He could feel his release already rising, and the way that Cas was panting and letting out wrecked groans around his words meant that the angel was nearing his too. After all the teasing and foreplay and now this blaspheming kink, there was no way in hell that either of them were going to last much more.

“Cas, I’m not gonna hold out much longer,” he warned weakly, his pace picking up fast.

“I… I… oh _God_ … neither can I – Dean… God fucking damn it…”

Dean’s back bowed upwards as Cas shifted all his weight down, desperate for those last echoes of friction as he rode hard against him, all the while whispering what Dean desperately wanted to hear, discovering that in actual fact, he liked it too, a lot more than he cared to admit.

“God… J-Jesus… Damn it… Fuck, I… oh my God, Dean… I’m… I’m…”

“ _Cas_ …”

Dean’s vision whited out as he felt those last threads of barriers break, feeling his orgasm release with a wrecked groan, feeling it hit _everywhere_ , and from somewhere far away he heard Cas moan louder than he thought possible, felt his wings awaken, felt them rise and flutter outwards as the first waves of his orgasm wracked every nerve in his body, felt him convulsing hard as hot spurts of the angel’s release landed between their thrusting bodies, and everything blanked out as they jerked against each other, riding out the pulses of their orgasms, clinging to each other like it was a matter of life or death.

It could have been minutes or hours or days that passed, but when Dean could think again, he found a heavily breathing Cas collapsed on top of him, slick with sweat and come, his wings puffed out and jerking in the aftermath of his intense climax. His head was buried in the crook of Dean's neck, and he was shaking hard.

“You okay?” he whispered, releasing his death grip and swapping it for a comforting stroke against Cas’s shoulder blade, fingers burying themselves in soft, inky feathers that quivered at his touch.

The angel didn’t have energy except to groan affirmatively. Dean chuckled, kissing the top of his sweat-soaked head.

“We are totally doing that again, just FYI,” he noted through hard breathing.

“ _God,_ yes.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the unprompted blasphemy. “Taken a liking to it now, have you?”

Cas shifted and raised his head, looking at him blearily. “Your fault.”

He kissed him on the lips and laughed. “You got off on it too.”

A pause. “I suppose sinning is more arousing than I first realised.”

“Damn right, angel,” he said against his lips, pulling him close.

Oh yeah, they were _totally_ doing that again.

 


End file.
